


Broken

by tayryn



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:29:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5332511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/pseuds/tayryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond lost more than his home at Skyfall.  Broken and uncertain, he struggles to cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolfsbride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/gifts).



> The idea for this story was Wolfsbride's. She very graciously let me snag it, and run with it... helping me much along the way to keep me on track.

James picked the lock with practised ease, then slipped into the flat, quickly deactivating the alarm system.

It was dark and still. In a way it had never been before, and he shivered.

The quiet was almost unnerving as he made his way down the short hall to the living room.

He stopped in the centre of the room, and looked around.

In the dining room, on the far window ledge, he could see the silhouette of the bottle of Scotch. Had it only been three weeks since he’d returned from his self-imposed exile? Funny, he mused, it felt longer. And yet, he sighed, it felt like only yesterday.

James shook his head, as he turned, and left the room.

He wandered down the hall. Moments later, he stood in the doorway to her bedroom.

James closed his eyes as he was suddenly assaulted with memories. Tears burned the inside of his lids, as soft moans echoed in his ears, while images of their times together flashed through his mind.

Blindly, he made his way for the bed, and sank down on the edge.

He reached out to touch the pillow. Her pillow.

_“Am I forgiven?”_

_His whispered question seemed loud in the quiet room, as he gazed down at the woman in his arms. Her face was flushed, her blue eyes were soft, sleepy, filled with satisfaction. It was a good look on her, he thought._

_“Yes.”_

_James lowered his head, and brushed his lips over hers. “Thank you, Olivia.”_

_“Just please don’t ever do that to me again,” she told him, her voice shaking just that little bit, and he realized in that moment just how much he’d hurt her._

_“I promise,” he vowed, caressing her cheek, then apologized again. “I am sorry.”_

_Olivia smiled tenderly. “I know.”_

James opened his eyes.

That had been the last time they’d made love.

His hand moved over the pillow again, before he grabbed it, and clutched it to his chest, burying his face in the soft material.

Her scent enveloped him.

_“I did get one thing right.”_

His grip tightened on the pillow.

His fault. It was all his fault she was gone.

Gone, he thought with a morose chuckle, dropping the pillow to his lap. What a nice euphemism for the real truth.

Olivia was dead.

She was dead, and he had killed her.

It did not matter that it had been one of Silva’s men’s bullets that had slowly bled the life from her. It was his fault, and his alone that she’d been in the position to be shot in the first place. He’d been the one to kidnap her from the enquiry. He’d been the one that had dragged her all the way out to the middle of nowhere without back up.

No. Silva’s henchman hadn’t killed Olivia.

He had.

He’d killed the woman he loved.

A sudden surge of anger had him flinging the pillow across the room to thud uselessly against the far wall. As quickly as it had flared, the anger left him, and the overwhelming sadness, that had been his companion since Olivia breathed her last in his arms, engulfed him again.

He fell back on the bed, several tears trickling unbidden down the sides of his face to wet the comforter beneath him, his hands balled into fists at his sides. After a few moments, he sat up, and reached for the framed photo on the night table.

It was a photo of him and Olivia, taken when they’d managed to sneak away to the countryside (not too far from London just in case) for a very rare weekend away. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, as he stroked his finger over her image, then stood, and slipped the frame into his pocket.

It was time to go.

His medical leave was over, and he was to report to Mallory in the morning.

James frowned, then with a final look around their bedroom, he quietly left Olivia’s flat the same way he’d slipped in.

**~*007*~**

The sun was shining, and there was a cold wind, but James was too lost in his thoughts to feel either the warmth or the chill. And while his gaze was cast out over the city, he saw nothing of the rooftops of the city around him, or the flags waving in the breeze.

“Wow. I didn’t even know you could come up here.”

James sighed softly as the unwanted voice interrupted his thoughts. He was not in the mood for company; wanting to be alone with his thoughts. “Hate to waste a view,” he replied flatly.

“I can see why.”

He turned to look at her. “I thought you were going back out on active service.”

“I declined. You said it yourself, fieldwork’s not for everyone.”

“If it helps, I feel a lot safer,” he remarked with a light-hearted amusement he did not feel.

Eve smiled, then glanced down at the black box he’d just noticed she was holding. “Her will was read today.”

James felt his body tense, and wondered why he hadn’t been told about it beforehand. This was the second time Mallory had left him out of the loop where Olivia had been concerned.

“She left you this,” she told him, holding out a black box.

Taking it, he opened it, and only just stopped himself from groaning.

The bulldog.

She’d left him the damn bulldog.

A sudden smirk graced his lips.

Of course she had.

“Maybe it was her way of telling you to take a desk job.”

“Just the opposite,” James replied, still looking down at the ceramic figurine. After a few moments, he put the lid back on the box. He lifted his gaze to Eve’s. “Thank you.”

She smiled, before turning, and walking away.

James looked at the box in his hands once again, the words on the label ‘From the estate of Olivia Mansfield’ were like a knife in his heart, and he closed his eyes against the pain.

_“You’re not seriously considering buying that ugly thing are you?”_

_Olivia glanced up at him, and grinned as she nodded. “If only because it apparently annoys you.”_

_James snorted, and shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”_

He took a deep breath, the memory of her amused chuckles echoing in his mind.

They’d stumbled across it in a small store on the same dirty weekend he’d taken the picture of the two of them. He’d managed to distract her from purchasing it, then had snuck away when she’d taken a nap after a rather enjoyable afternoon spent making love, and had bought it for her.

“Bond?”

He opened his eyes to see Eve waiting at the door leading back inside the building.

“Are you coming inside? M wants to see you.”

James felt the muscle in his right eye twitch, and slowly released the breath he’d been holding.

“Yeah,” he answered with an absent nod, then glanced one last time over the city.

Cradling the box to his chest, James followed her back inside the building. He stopped by his office only long enough to put the box on his desk, and remove his coat, then he and Eve walked in silence down the corridor to Mallory’s office.

They entered the outer office just as Tanner was leaving Mallory’s. “Morning, 007.”

“Good morning, Tanner.”

“He’ll see you now,” Bill told him.

James nodded at Moneypenny, now seated behind her desk, then crossed the room toward Tanner, who was still standing in the doorway. “Thanks, Bill,” he said quietly, as he stepped past the other man, and entered Mallory’s office.

He paused.

Mallory was standing behind a large wooden desk, his back to James, with sling around his neck, shuffling papers.

It was all wrong, he thought. His M should be behind that desk, in the new office, not some man who hadn’t earned the position.

With a fortifying breath, he pushed the thought out of his mind.

“How’s the arm, sir?”

“What? Oh, it’s fine,” Mallory replied. “It will get better. All pretty shocking for someone unused to fieldwork.”

James merely nodded. He was aware it had been a number of years since Mallory had been out in the field, though he doubted anyone would every truly forget the experience. He knew Olivia hadn’t. He quickly pushed that thought aside.

“So, 007… lots to be done,” Mallory said, picking up a black mission folder, and tossing it onto the desk closer to James. “Are you ready to get back to work.”

“With pleasure, sir,” James told him, as he reached for the folder. In no uncertain terms would he ever call Mallory ‘M’, James promised himself. For him, M would always be the petite, white-haired woman who had stolen his heart, and captured his soul. “With pleasure.”


	2. Chapter 2

James entered his flat, slamming the door behind him, and headed straight for his liquor cabinet. He grabbed the nearest bottle, uncaring of what it was, and poured himself a quick shot. He downed it, then poured another one.

He was in a foul mood.

He tipped the glass back again, ignoring the burn of the Scotch in his throat, then refilled his glass. Leaving the bottle, he wandered over to his sofa, and dropped down onto the cushions.

He’d been back on active service for three months now, and he was still being assigned missions that any regular agent could have easily handled. They were definitely not ones that should be handled by a Double-0. Especially one with his many years of experience.

James sighed.

He was bored and frustrated. Not something he had ever expected to feel in regards to his chosen line of work. As a consequence, he was unable to lose himself in the missions, which had the unfortunate result of allowing his mind to wander to places he would rather it didn’t.

James closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the cushions.

He had hoped going back to work would help him forget.

Not that he would ever forget her – she was too much a part of him still, and always would be – but he had hoped for a distraction from the memories, from the sadness, pain and heartache, that were his constant companions.

His stomach growled at him, reminding him he hadn’t had anything to eat in several hours. With a groan, he pushed himself up off the couch, and made his way to the kitchen. Hopefully there would still be something edible in the fridge, though he doubted it.

**~*007*~**

“M!”

James bolted awake with a shout, looking around frantically for her. He stopped suddenly, and scrubbed a hand over his face when reality came crashing back.

Olivia was gone.

He’d been having a nightmare.

Again.

“Shit,” he swore, and buried his face in his hands, murmuring her name with sad longing.

When he felt a little calmer, James raised his head, and looked around. He frowned. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa.

Shaking his head at himself, James got to his feet, grabbed the dirty dishes from the coffee table, then made his way to the kitchen. He dumped the plate and utensils in the sink, then headed for his bedroom.

He stopped in the loo for a quick piss, undressed, made a cursory attempt at washing, then shuffled into his bedroom, and fell into bed with a groan.

Lord-willing, there would be no more nightmares.

**~*007*~**

“Good morning, James.”

James mumbled a reply as he passed Moneypenny, and heading for his office. He was in no mood to be sociable.

“James, M would like to see you right away.”

With a barely audible huff of annoyance, James did an about face, and began walking toward Mallory’s office.

“James, are you all right?” Moneypenny inquired, falling into step beside him.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. He wished she’d stop asking him that every time she saw him.

“Are you sure? You look like hell.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he replied in a low voice, then quickened his pace. Sooner he got to Mallory’s office, the sooner he’d be able to escape Moneypenny. He knew she meant well, but frankly, he was starting to get irritated with her.

James breathed a small sigh of relief when they entered the small office Moneypenny shared with Tanner.

She hurriedly stepped around him, and moved over to her desk. “Sir,” she pressed the button on the intercom. “007 is here.”

“Thank you, Miss Moneypenny. Please send him in.”

“M will see you now,” she told him.

“Thanks,” he said tersely, then entered Mallory’s office.

“Ah, 007. Come in, sit down.” Mallory gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

Bond sat.

“I realize it’s only been a few days since your last mission, but are you well enough to take on another one?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good.” Mallory smiled, then pushed a folder across his desk.

James grabbed it, opened it, and skimmed the mission summary. He only just stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

It was yet another easy assignment.

Christ, he was getting really sick of being treated with kid gloves.

He pushed back the sudden swell of anger, and instead focused on what Mallory was saying as he began to brief him on the mission.

He wasn’t certain how much more of this he could take.

**~*007*~**

“NOOO!”

The shout was followed by a loud crash, and the sound of glass breaking.

The thrashing in the bed stopped suddenly, and James sat up like a shot, gasping for breath.

Another nightmare.

This one even worse than the others.

He closed his eyes, then opened them again immediately, as the images still running through his head appeared even more vivid against the inside of his eyelids.

He’d dreamt about the chapel at Skyfall again.

Usually his nightmares revolved around that horrible moment when Olivia died in his arms… but tonight’s nightmare had been different.

This time, he’d got to the chapel too late, and had watched Silva pull the trigger of the gun he’d held against her temple.

He’d watched the light go out of her eyes as the bullet ripped through her brain, shattering her skull; taking Silva with her in the gruesome final embrace he’d sought.

James felt his stomach roll as a wave of nausea hit him.

Seconds. He’d prevented that horrific scene only by mere seconds. That knowledge did little to settle his stomach or calm his still racing heart, as he swung his feet over the side of the bed, then stood.

“OW! SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK?!”

He fell back on the bed, and reached out to turn on the bedside lamp.

The nausea returned like a punch in the gut.

The picture of him and Olivia was no longer on the night table. Nor was bulldog.

He looked down.

Nausea gave way to anger, suddenly and swiftly.

“GOD DAMN IT!!”

He hauled his right leg up, and bent it to find a piece of white ceramic embedded in the ball of his foot, blood leaking steadily from around the shard. He yanked the glass out, dropping it to the floor, then swore again as the blood began to flow freely.

“SON OF A BITCH!” He scrambled to grab some tissues from the box on the night table, and pressed them to his foot.

Glaring at the mess on the floor, James lowered his foot, fully aware the cut would continue bleeding, then quickly, and carefully, made his way into the bathroom. He grabbed a couple bandages from the vanity drawer, then sat on the edge of the tub, with his feet in the tub, then ran the cold water.

He quickly cleaned the cut, dried it, then inspected it. It could probably use a couple stitches, he reckoned, but he did not feel much like going to the A&E, so he slapped on several bandages, and hoped that would hold.

Getting out of the tub, he rinsed it, then wet a couple washcloths, and began to wipe up the trail of blood. Once that was cleaned, he stooped down to stare at the mess of glass and ceramic on the floor.

He carefully extracted the picture from the smashed glass of the picture frame, relieved to discover there were only a couple small scratches in the corners. He lightly traced Olivia’s features before placing the photo on the bedside table, then separated the glass from the remains of the bulldog.

James threw the broken frame and glass into the bin, then picked up the larger shards of the ceramic, and held them in the palm of his hand; hovering over the bin for several moments. A deep sigh escaped him as he yanked open the drawer on the night table, dumped the pieces inside, then slammed the drawer shut, and stood.

He turned to look down at the remaining bits of glass and ceramic.

Rage swelled within him once again.

He’d just lost the last thing he had of hers.

The one thing she’d left him, the ONE GOD DAMN THING SHE’D LEFT HIM, he thought, and he’d failed to keep it safe.

Just as he’d been unable to keep her safe. 

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Suddenly he spun on his heel, and smashed his fist through the wall above the night table as something inside him snapped.

James looked down at his now bruised knuckles, and a sad smile touched his lips. He’d been unable to keep the one person he valued above all others safe, but he vowed in that moment to keep his other mistress safe.

Just as Olivia would have wanted.

And he’d start while on this new assignment.


	3. Chapter 3

James took a sip of his drink, and eyed the bald man sitting in the booth across from him.

He’d completed his assignment within two days of arriving in Nassau, and had been enjoying a drink in one of Atlantis’ many bars, when he’d spotted him.

Juan Carvalho

Carvalho was a high-ranking member of one of the top drug cartels in South America. Six had been after him for years, but somehow he’d always managed to evade capture. Several agents had been assigned to track him down, and one or two had even managed to take him into custody. Each time, however, it’d been temporary.

Memories of how pissed off Olivia would get each time Carvalho escaped custody, often times killing the agent in the process, flashed through James’ mind. He’d hated seeing her that way - the anger, frustration, and sadness rolling off her in fierce waves - and being unable to help her.

He smiled grimly into his drink.

Not this time, he thought.

**~*007*~**

His head snapped back again, blood from his broken nose spraying on the wall beside him, as the fist smashed into his face.

He groaned, his eyes blurring with tears.

A grunt was forced out of him when the fist connected with his face yet again.

Bond’s face was hard, his eyes cold yet flashing with rage as he drew back his arm, and slammed his fist into Carvalho’s face several more times. With each blow, memories of Olivia’s face flushed with helpless anger flashed through his mind, and each successive hit was harder than the one before.

Another groan escaped the now bruised and bloodied drug dealer, and Bond let go of his shirt, smiling darkly when he crumpled into a heap on the floor. Kicking him hard in the stomach, he then used his foot to roll the nearly unconscious man onto his back, then stepped over him.

Bond stared down at Carvalho.

“Are you even aware of the grief you caused her?” he asked the Columbian, as he slipped his gun from the shoulder holster. “The sleepless nights?” He removed the silencer from his pocket, and began to screw it onto the end of the gun barrel. “Do you know how long she agonized over the death of each one of those agents?”

Carvalho’s eyes widened in fear when Bond aimed the gun at his head. “I… I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“M.”

Bond pulled the trigger.

**~*007*~**

“Did you encounter any difficulties, 007?”

Bond looked across the desk at Mallory. The final, gruesome expression of surprise and fear etched on Carvalho’s face flashed through his mind. He smiled. “No, sir.”

“Good. Very good,” Mallory said with a pleased smile. “I’ll expect your written report by the end of the day.”

“Of course, sir.”

“And until the next assignment turns up, your time is yours.”

Recognizing the dismissal, James stood. “Thank you, sir,” he replied, then left Mallory’s office.

**~*007*~**

James glanced around; a deep scowl slowly spreading across his face.

Something felt off.

He was very aware that she was no longer there, and that was part of why he was feeling this way, however, there was something more. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

James stepped further into the room, then suddenly stopped.

The place itself looked different.

Pain filled his eyes as realization took hold.

Six had begun their cleanup.

He was suddenly grateful he’d had the foresight to grab the photo of the two of them from her night table the last time he’d broken in.

The scowl gave way to a look of profound sadness, the feeling creeping into every part of him, and he felt his shoulders slump under the weight of the emotion.

He made his way to the bedroom, and as he had the previous time, he stopped just inside the doorway.

The pillow was still on the floor.

Six had not touched the this room yet.

James felt a small measure of relief, as he walked over to the bed, and sat down.

He closed his eyes.

The sadness overwhelmed him.

Anger still coiled tightly in his gut, but at this moment, it was the sadness that held sway over his emotions.

“I miss you, Olivia.”

His whispered words echoed loudly in the quiet of the room.

Six months. She’d been gone for almost six months, and the pain was still as fresh now as it had been in that moment she died in his arms.

He unconsciously rubbed his hand against his chest, over his heart.

The pain was a very physical ache.

“I killed a man.”

James opened his eyes at his softly uttered confession.

“I got Juan Carvalho for you,” he continued. “I was on assignment, and spotted him. I know much you wanted him, how frustrated you were that he kept getting away, so I took him down for you. Shot the bastard right between the eyes.”

He glanced out the window, into the darkness, grateful for the protective tinting that prohibited anyone from seeing inside.

“I will do for her, what I could not do for you.” He quietly gave voice to the promise he’d made himself just the other week. “No matter what I have to do.”

**~*007*~**

Entering his flat, James was immediately aware of another presence.

Slipping his gun from his holster, he thumbed the safety off, took a steadying breath, then spun around, aiming the gun at…

“Q!?”

“Oh, do put that thing away, 007,” the older man admonished him.

James scowled at Six’s former Quartermaster as he flicked the safety back into place on the Walther, then slipped the gun back into his holster.

“Helped yourself to my Scotch I see,” James said, as he walked past the sofa to his liquor cabinet to pour himself one, then moved to sit in the armchair. He raised his glass in a brief salute, then took a sip. “I thought you’d retired to the tropics.”

“I did,” Q replied.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I heard about M,” Q said in a soft voice.

James flinched, but covered by taking a long pull of his drink. He waited for Q to say more, to offer condolences, but he didn’t. Much to James’ surprise and relief. He’d heard quite enough well-meaning platitudes from everyone at Six - even now, all these months later, people kept telling him how sorry they were.

He wasn’t certain how much longer he would be able to put up with it.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you since I left,” the older man told him.

James did not respond. He wasn’t surprised in the least.

A long silence stretched between the two men as they sipped their Scotch. James was grateful Q did not feel the need to fill that silence with conversation.

When both had emptied their tumblers, Q placed his glass on the coffee table, then slowly got to his feet, and reached for his jacket. Putting it on, he reached into his right pocket, then withdrew his hand, and dropped a couple items onto the table beside his empty glass.

They were USB drives, James realized, and looked up at the older man.

“If you are determined to do what you’re doing, this will help,” Q told him, then stepped around the low table, and Bond’s chair, and made his way across the room. He paused in the doorway, and turned back. “I am sorry, 007. I miss the old girl, too.”

James closed his eyes against the sudden, unexpected sting of tears, and after taking a steadying breath, he opened them. “Thank you, Q.”

When there was no reply, he turned, and saw that his old Quartermaster was no longer there.

James got to his feet, and hurried over to the front window. Pushing aside the curtain, he looked out into the darkness to see a taxi pull up in front of Q who was standing on the pavement. He watched as Q opened the door, then paused, and looked back over his shoulder.

Their eyes met.

Q gave him a single nod, then slipped inside the taxi, and closed the door.

James let the curtain fall back into place as the taxi sped away, then walked over to his liquor cabinet, and grabbed the bottle of Scotch.

He needed something to dull the pain of the reopened wound.

**~*007*~**

Bond dodged the fist heading for his face, but was unable to avoid the foot that caught him in the stomach.

He stumbled backwards with a grunt.

His eyes narrowed, and with a snarl, he charged his opponent; ramming him with his shoulder, and shoving him the couple feet into the wall behind them, breaking through it to land in a pile on the floor in the next room.

They rolled on the floor, continuing to trade punches until finally, Bond gained the upper hand. He straddled the other man, and began to pummel him with his fists.

He punched, and punched, and punched the other man until his face was a bloody mess.

He showed no mercy; rage fuelling his actions.

In his mind’s eye, all he could see was the anger and hurt on her face, and it was those images, the memory of the helplessness he felt in the face of her anger and frustration, that fuelled the rage.

Bond continued to rain down hit after hit, his fists a blur as they smashed into the nearly unconscious man’s face, and then, without stopping to think, he reached down, grabbed the man’s head in his hands.

He quickly snapped his neck.

Bond got to his feet, and stared down at the lifeless body.

Another one checked off the list.

**~*007*~**

“Sir?”

Mallory looked up to see Tanner standing in the doorway with a grave look on his face. He hadn’t realized his Chief of Staff had stayed to work late as well.

“Another one?”

Tanner nodded.

Mallory sighed. “Come in, Tanner. Shut the door.”

Tanner stepped further into the office, and closed the door behind him.

Mallory stood. “Would you like a drink?”

“I would, thank you,” Tanner replied.

Mallory gestured for him to sit, then stepped over to the drinks cabinet, and poured them both a small glass of Bourbon. He moved back to his desk, handed Tanner one of the tumblers, then sat down. He leaned back in his chair, and took a swallow of the liquor.

“You think James is behind this, don’t you?” Tanner asked after several moments of silence.

Mallory nodded. “It fits. Each incident has coincided with 007’s assignments over the last three months.”

“Not the second one,” Tanner pointed out. “The second body was found just outside of London, the third found in Paris. Bond was not on assignment those…” His voice trailed off. “Damn.”

“Indeed.”

“The third body was the last body,” Bill said. “The others since have been alive.”

“Just barely,” Mallory remarked.

Tanner acknowledged that with a slight nod of his head. “True, however each tip we’ve received on where to find these men do not coincide with any of his missions, or even his down time.” He paused. “But you still think it’s James, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Mallory replied, then took another sip of his Bourbon. He reached out to press a button on the corner of his desk, activating the privacy protocols. He looked straight at Tanner. “What I am about to tell you is classified, but as my Chief of Staff, I feel you should know.”

Tanner nodded his understanding, silently acknowledging the seriousness of the situation.

“There is a list; known only to a select few, and there is no official record of it, but it does exist,” Mallory told him. “It contains the names of select individuals that Six has been working to bring down. Many of them have been on this list for years, and we’ve been unable to get to them.”

“So each of these men we’ve found,” Tanner began slowly, “are the men on this list that Six has been VERY interested in taking in, taking down or eliminating.”

“Yes.”

Tanner’s eyebrow rose.

“We’re not entirely certain, but if it is Bond, somehow he found out about this list.”

“Sir, if I may, I think we both know how Bond became aware of that list. If it is indeed James doing this to these men, that is.”

“You’re suggesting my predecessor told him.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re assuming she knew of its existence,” Mallory said.

Tanner cocked his head to the side, and while he had only been working with Mallory for the last eight months, he did not hesitate to give him an incredulous look.

Mallory sighed, and slowly nodded. There was a reason he’d kept Tanner on as his Chief of Staff. The man was not only exceedingly good at his job, he was extremely intelligent and perceptive. “Do you really feel she would have told 007?” he asked, acknowledging that yes, the previous M had indeed known about the list.

“Yes,” Tanner answered simply. “For all that he exasperated her, there was no one M trusted more than James.” He paused, looking as if he was trying to decide whether or not to say more. “They were very close, sir.”

“I know they were.”

“He took her death quite hard.”

“Yes, he did,” Mallory said in a low voice, then watched Tanner’s eyes grow wide.

“You think that’s why…” 

“Yes.”

Tanner frowned. He did not want to admit it, but he felt Mallory could be right. M’s death had, had a profound effect on James. He’d always been somewhat aloof with others, trusting very few, and allowing only one or two to actually get close. Tanner counted himself lucky to be one of those few. But over the last eight months, even he had noticed the change in Bond. He’d become even more closed off, and almost prickly. But even so, Tanner found it difficult to believe that Bond had, for all intents and purposes, gone rogue.

“We have no proof.”

“We do actually.”

“You do?” Tanner asked, and then realization dawned. “The bullet.”

“The bullet.” Mallory nodded. He’d known Tanner would figure it out. “The one from the first victim. Q branch has matched it to the ones used by Bond.”

“Damn,” Tanner muttered, then asked, “How are you planning to handle the situation?”

“For the time being, I am going to handle it by doing nothing. The higher ups, those who are aware of the list, are happy that we’re showing some progress in crossing names off. I’ve been able to keep the fact that these were not sanctioned assignments from them, but I do not know how much longer I will be able to do so,” Mallory told him. “For now, we’ll continue to keep an eye on him. Hopefully he will continue to simply leave them for us, and not return to killing them.”

Tanner nodded his agreement. He knew James had no compunction about killing anyone who threatened England and her interests. It was his job. It’s what he had been trained to do. Tanner also knew that James would not kill just for the sake of it. He was not, for all that many perceived him as such, just a mindless thug. That brought to mind another question, which he voiced.

“Do we know **how** Bond is tracking down these people?”

Mallory shook his head. “Yet another question we need to find the answer to.”


	4. Chapter 4

Bond keyed in his password; seconds later, a sly grin curled the corners of his mouth as he was granted access in the top level of Six’s main database.

He typed in a name, along with his search parameters, then sat back in his chair, and waited. He knew the information he sought would take several moments.

He shook his head at how easy this was, and had always been, especially for someone with only basic hacking skills such as himself.

No one at Six had any clue.

No one that is except his M.

Olivia had known.

She had figured out long before they’d become lovers that he’d hacked his way into Six’s system on several occasions.

She’d known, and hadn’t done anything about it.

A wistful look passed over James’ face as he remembered the flash of pride in her eyes when he’d finally confessed it to her, one night so long ago, then had surprised him with the knowledge that she’d known all about it.

James closed his eyes.

He was tired.

Tired of everything.

Killing those men had brought him no real satisfaction. It was one of the reasons he had stopped doing so, and instead had begun to leave them, barely conscious, for Six.

_“007, if you could avoid killing every possible lead, it would be deeply appreciated.”_

It had been the whisper of those words in the back of his mind that had stopped him from killing Fougère. Even though the man had killed hundreds of innocent people, including several agents, and in James’ mind deserved to die, he’d refrained from doing so, knowing Olivia would not have wanted it, and left him for Six.

He’d done the same with the next four men.

But even that, letting them live as he knew Olivia would want, was not bringing him any sort of peace, as he’d hoped it would.

More and more, James was discovering that being a Double-0 was no longer what he wanted. It had lost its appeal. Oh, he still felt that pull to do his duty, to serve Queen and country, but without his M, that pull was becoming less, and less.

Without his M, without Olivia, life no longer made any sense to him; the desire, the pull to live each day, held little sway.

There were only a few more names on the list he’d vowed to take down. Once that was done, perhaps then he would walk away from all this. After all, there was nothing, or no one, to tie him to Six any longer.

The computer beeped. It had finished its task.

James opened his eyes, and leaned forward to see the results. His eyes hardened, and a grim smile touched his lips.

“Got you.”

All he needed to know now was when his next assignment would be, and where, and then he could take care of this next target. Cross another one off the list. Do for Olivia what she’d been unable to do during her tenure as M.

He quickly memorized the needed information, then ran the program he’d got from Q that would remove all traces and evidence of his actions in Six’s system, and from his laptop.

Leaning back in his chair once again, James stared up at his ceiling, the exhaustion making its presence known once again.

He sighed.

Not too much longer, he hoped, and then he would be free.

Free to do what though, was the question that flitted about his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

**~* 007 *~**

Bond stumbled backwards from the force of the punch thrown at him. He grunted as he regained his footing, then charged the other man.

They staggered, then fell to the ground in a heap.

Bond groaned when he found himself on his back with the other man straddling him. He raised his arms in a protective measure, as his opponent rained punches down on him.

For an older man, Beckhert was surprisingly strong, Bond discovered. He’d put up quite a fight, unlike the four men who had been guarding him; he’d dispatched them quickly and easily with a bullet to the brain each. But Beckhert, he was a different story.

Bond blocked yet another punch, then managed to throw one himself, catching the older man on the side of the head.

He’d hoped this would be quick and easy. Knock Beckhert out, tie him up, and leave him for Six.

Sadly, he knocked away another punch, that did not appear to be the case.

Bond groaned, his eyes closing, when Beckhert managed to land another volley of hits, his fists breaking through Bond’s defense to make contact with his head and face.

The punches suddenly stopped as the other man rolled off him, and over the sound of harsh breathing, Bond heard a gun cock.

He opened his eyes to see his own gun pointed at him.

“On your feet, Bond,” ordered the man in a thick German accent.

Bond slowly climbed to his feet, facing the German, and glared at him.

“The great James Bond,” Horst Beckhert sneered. “Not so great now, are you?”

Bond continued to glare at the other man, his mind turning over various scenarios on how to get out of this particular predicament.

“Are you ready to go to hell with that old bitch you used to work for?” Beckhert asked, and Bond’s eyes narrowed. The other man grinned, then croaked out a laugh. “Oh yes, I heard about that. Killed by a former agent no less, how delicious”

Bond’s hands curled into fists at his side.

“I believe I drank a toast to her demise when I heard the news,” Beckhert taunted him with a leer.

A red veil descended over Bond’s vision, and with a feral roar of outrage, he threw himself at the German. The gun went off, grazing his left bicep, but he paid it no attention as he tackled the man to the ground. He wrestled the gun way from Beckhert in between punches to the other man’s face, then began to beat him with the gun.

The repeated slapping of Bond’s fist meeting Beckhert’s face filled the small room; wet, slurpy noises that became more and more gruesome with each successive hit, until the satisfying sound of bones breaking rang in Bond’s ears.

Bond continued to hammer blows down on Beckhert until he realized the other man was no longer offering any resistance. He stopped, and looked down at the German, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he panted for breath, to discover that Beckhert was dead.

He climbed off the body, his own shaking with the continued rush of adrenaline, and stared down at Beckhert’s body.

“And I’ll be drinking a toast to your imminent arrival in Hell,” Bond told the corpse in a rough voice, then turned, and walked away, a dark smile on his face.

**~*007*~**

“Send me the pictures,” Tanner said, then hung up the phone, then sighed deeply.

He closed his eyes, and took several slow, deep breaths before opening them again. Ignoring the curious glance Moneypenny was shooting his way, Bill pushed back his chair, then stood.

He had to tell M.

They had another body.

Grabbing his tablet, he walked into M’s office without knocking, closing the door behind him.

Mallory looked up. “Is Bond on his way in?”

“What? Oh! Yes, sir,” Tanner answered. “But that’s not why I’m here. I just got off the phone with Derricks,” he told him, then glanced down at his tablet when he heard the notification sound that the email from the retrieval team had arrived. He quickly opened it, then winced at the image on the screen. “This is what his team found when they arrived at the site,” he said, before handing the tablet to M.

Mallory grimaced. “That’s Horst Beckhert. Other than being severely beaten, was there any other sign of trauma?”

“No, sir.”

Mallory frowned. “Damn.”

“There were also several other dead bodies at the scene. We’re assuming they were Beckhert’s bodyguards. Those men were shot.”

Standing, Mallory shoved his hands into his pockets, and began to pace.

“He’s crossed the line this time, hasn’t he?” Bill asked his superior in a quiet voice.

“Well, he’s definitely stepped onto that line, that’s for certain,” Mallory replied. “His only saving grace has been that those men are wanted, and those who know about the list have been pleased to see the names being crossed off it. However in this case, there will some be some backlash.”

“How so?”

“They wanted Beckhert alive,” Mallory responded, then stopped pacing, turning to face Tanner. “I am not sure I will be able to protect him this time.”

Tanner nodded sadly in understanding.

“I do wish he’d talk with Dr. Hall,” Mallory said. “If he did that, we might get some insight as to what he’s thinking, and perhaps take steps to help him. But I know even ordering him to do so would be an exercise in futility.”

Tanner couldn’t help smiling just that little bit. “Yes, sir, it would be.”

Mallory sighed. “Do you truly believe her death is the reason 007 has,” he paused, “for all intents and purposes, gone rogue?”

“I do think her death affected him hard. Harder than it has anyone else, but no!” Bill replied after several moments of thought. “James would never betray Queen and country, or Six, that way.”

“Are you sure about that?” Mallory asked.

A sudden shout from the outer office prevented Tanner from answering, and both men rushed out of M’s office.

They stopped dead in their tracks, shocked to see Bond pressing Moneypenny against the wall, his arm against her throat.

“James…” she gasped, struggling to get free.

“007!” Mallory shouted, then took an involuntary step back when Bond turned to look at him, rage and hatred filling his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

“Good morning, James.”

James glanced up to see Moneypenny leaning against the doorjamb of her office, arms crossed, and smiling at him.

He sighed internally, then grumbled out a reply, “Morning.”

He’d hoped to make it to his office without being seen or accosted by Moneypenny. He’d started avoiding her whenever he was at Six, as he was tired of fielding questions from her.

He was okay. Yes, he knew she was sorry. No, he didn’t want to talk about it.

James knew she meant well, but honestly, she was getting on his nerves asking him the same bloody questions each time. What she did not seem to realize was that each time she mentioned his M, it was like ripping a bandage off a still healing wound.

The pain returned with just as much force as the original injury, if not more.

“Don’t you sound cheerful,” Moneypenny remarked, traces of sarcasm and worry in her voice. “Is everything all right? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied. “Didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”

He surprised himself by telling her the truth.

It **had** been a rough night. He’d had difficulty falling asleep, and once he had finally nodded off, he’d been plagued by disturbing dreams, all of them centred around his inability to save Olivia, which culminated in a violent nightmare.

He’d woken up half-screaming, half-sobbing, and had been so shaken and upset that he’d been unable to go back to sleep.

“Are you still having nightmares about what happened at Skyfall?” Moneypenny asked. “It wasn’t your fault, James. You did everything you could. It was just a horrible situation all around; you can’t continue beating yourself up about it.”

A horrible situation?! Bond repeated the phrase in his head. Is that all she thought it was? A horrible situation.

It was so much more than that.

In that moment, Bond’s world had descended into darkness, and he’d been wandering around aimlessly in the void ever since.

“It’s not your fault she’s dead, James.”

Something in James’ mind snapped.

Before he could stop himself, he spun around, and slammed Moneypenny up against the wall, pressing his forearm to her throat, cutting off her startled shout.

“NO! It’s your goddamned fault!” he snarled. “If you had been a better fucking shot, she’d still be here!”

Moneypenny grabbed his arm, as she fought to free herself. “James…” she choked out.

“When you missed with the first shot, you should have taken a second one right away! You should have done whatever you had to, to prevent Silva from getting that hard drive! But you didn’t. You fucked up, and she died because of it!”

“007!”

James’ head snapped around at the loud call of his name; rage and hatred swelling within him at the sight of Mallory standing less than ten feet away from him. He felt a momentary sense of satisfaction when he saw both Mallory and Tanner flinch, and take a step back.

“…James…” Moneypenny gasped again. “Please…”

His attention swung back to her, and he pressed his arm more firmly against her throat, ignoring the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Get security up here! Now!” James heard Mallory tell Tanner. “007. Bond… let her go.”

James turned his head slightly to look at Mallory from the corner of his eye.

“Let Eve go, James. I know you don’t want hurt her. Release her, let her go, and let’s talk about this.”

James’ eyes narrowed as the soft timbre of Mallory’s voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He knew what Mallory was trying to do, and it made him even angrier.

However, Mallory was correct. Angry though he was, and blaming her for her part in the Silva fiasco, James did not want to actually hurt Moneypenny.

“Let her go, and we’ll get you some help.”

James’ face hardened, and with a snarl, he yanked Moneypenny away from the wall, and shoved her toward Mallory, then took off.

**~*007*~**

“Let her go, and we’ll get you some help,” Mallory told Bond, his voice still calm and quiet.

He did not want to spook his visibly troubled agent. Not while he still had Eve pinned to the wall, cutting off her air supply. He didn’t think Bond would truly hurt Eve… but it was more than obvious that 007 was teetering on the edge of a very dark cliff, and was not as in control as he was pretending to be.

A low growl was his only warning, and then he was diving forward to catch Moneypenny before she cracked her head on the desk.

“Tanner!” Mallory called out, cradling a shaking, sobbing Eve in his arms.

“Security’s on their way, sir!”

“Tell them to use whatever force they deem necessary, but I want 007 caught alive.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mallory turned his attention to the still shuddering woman in his arms. “Are you all right, Eve?”

“Y… yes, sir,” Eve stuttered. “For a moment, I thought he was going to kill me.”

“I know,” he replied, and rubbed her arm in a soothing manner. “But even as upset as he was, I don’t believe 007 would have done so.”

“I don’t really think he would have either,” she admitted, as Mallory helped her to her feet. “But I was still frightened. I have never seen James so angry.”

“Sir,” Tanner spoke up. “Security reports, and CCTV confirms that Bond has left the building.”

“How did he manage that?”

“He is a Double-0, sir.”

Mallory acknowledged Tanner’s comment with a slight shrug of his shoulders and nod of his head. He guided Moneypenny to a chair, and helped her sit. “When you feel steady, I want you to go down to Medical to get checked out,” he told her. “You’re going to have one hell of a bruise.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mallory smiled briefly, then turned to Tanner. “I want a warrant put out on Bond.”

“Sir, if I may,” Tanner began, “I believe I know where Bond’s gone. Please, let me take a team to get him. He and I have been friends for a long time, he might listen to me.”

“Very well. Do that.” Mallory nodded.

“Thank you, sir. Also, may I suggest you send a team to the cemetery as well, just in case.”

“The cem… ah yes,” Mallory said at Tanner’s pointed look. “Good idea. I’ll do that.”

Tanner moved past his superior, and made for the door, stopping when Mallory called his name, and looked back.

“Where do you think Bond has gone, Tanner?”

Tanner smiled sadly.

**~*007*~**

Mallory stepped into his office, closed and locked the door behind him, then walked over to his desk.

He picked up the phone, and punched in a number.

After several rings, the line on the other end was picked up. _“Hello?”_

“We have a problem.”

**~*007*~**

The car pulled up in front of the flat.

“Cookson, I want your team to surround the flat. If he comes out without me, you are to subdue him,” Tanner told the agent sitting beside him. “Tranq-guns only.”

“Yes, sir,” Cookson replied. “He won’t get away.”

Tanner nodded, then got out of the car. He crossed the pavement, then climbed the few steps to the door. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he removed the key he’d grabbed before leaving headquarters, unlocked the door, then stepped inside.

He left the door open, and slowly moved down the hall, his hands held out at his sides. He paused in the doorway to the living room, glanced around, then continued further into the flat.

When he reached the door to the master bedroom, he heard the unmistakeable sound of a gun cocking.

“It’s me, James,” he called out.

“Go away, Bill.”

“I can’t do that,” Bill replied, as he crossed the threshold, stopping just inside the bedroom.

Bond was sitting on floor, his back to the stripped bed, knees drawn up against his chest, his gun pointed directly at Bill’s head.

“Put the gun away, James.”

Bond shook his head. “Is Moneypenny all right?”

“A little shaken up,” Tanner answered. “And she’ll have a spectacular bruise on her neck, but yes, she’s all right.”

“Good. I’m glad. I didn’t mean to hurt her, but she kept pushing, and pushing…” His voice trailed off, and he glanced around the room. “Six has done a fine job cleaning up the flat, haven’t they? There’s no trace of her left. It’s all gone.” He lowered his gun. “They took her away from me, Bill. First Silva and his men by shooting her, then they cremated her without my knowledge, had her funeral without telling me…” He left the sentence unfinished, and looked up sadly at his friend.

Bill had never seen James look so lost, and crossed the room to stand next to him. He leaned back against the bed.

“I wasn’t ready, Bill. It felt, and still feels, like the rug was yanked out from under me, and now I’m free-falling.”

“I know, James.”

James laughed bitterly. “No. You don’t. Not really.”

Tanner sighed. “I cared about her, too, James. We all did. That’s no reason to go off half-cocked as you’ve been doing.”

“You guys figured it out. I wondered when you would.”

“We did,” Bill said, then paused. “M wants you to come in, James.”

“He’s not M!” James growled, smacking the floor with his gun.

“Yes, James, he is,” Bill told him quietly. “I know that’s hard for you deal with, but he is. She’s gone.”

James closed his eyes, and shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “No… she’s not.” He began to tap his fingers against his chest over his heart. “She’s not… I can still feel her, Bill. She’s not gone.”

Bill had known Bond and M were close, but he realized he hadn’t known just how much his friend cared about their former superior. He laid his hand on Bond’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, James.”

“I’m not going in, Bill,” James told him a few moments later. “And we both know you can’t stop me.”

“There’s a team surrounding the flat, James. Even if you do knock me out, they will take you down.”

Bond slowly got to his feet, and turned to face Tanner, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth. “Do you honestly think they’ll be able to stop me, Bill? I got out of Six with the whole of security after me. Getting out of here will be quite easy.”

“James, please don’t try,” Tanner beseeched the Double-0 as he began to move toward the door. “Come back to Six, let us help you.”

“That’s just it, Bill, Six can’t help me. They’re the ones that took her from me,” James replied. “All I want now is to disappear. So, please, as my friend, let me do that.”

Tanner shook his head. “I can’t do that, James, you know that.”

James nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He raised his gun, aiming it at Tanner once again, his face a mask of pain. “I’m sorry, Bill.”

There was a soft pop, followed by a sizzling hissing sound, and Tanner watched as Bond’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m sorry, James.”

James groaned, then collapsed into a heap on the floor, his gun clattering on the hard wood as it slipped from his fingers.

Bill walked over to the prone body of his friend, and crouched down to check his pulse; pleased to find it beating strong and steady beneath his fingertips.

“Tanner?”

He looked up to see Cookson standing in the doorway, and nodded. “He’s out. Well done.”

“Thank you.”

Tanner grabbed James’ Walther, then stood. He flipped the safety into place, then pocketed the weapon. “How long will the sedative last?”

“A couple hours,” Cookson answered. “Long enough for us to get him back to headquarters safely.”

“Good,” Tanner said. “I will advise M that you’re on your way back in with 007.”

“Very good,” Cookson replied, and called on his comm for two of his agents.

Tanner stepped back from James when the agents entered the room, then hauled Bond, none too gently, up from the floor.

“Careful boys!” Cookson spoke up, his voice gruff. “Bond is still a Double-0, and you will treat him with the respect due his position.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” the agents replied in chorus, then with more care, they hefted the unconscious Bond into their arms - one agent at his head, the other at his feet - and carried him out of the flat.

“We’ll take good care of him, Tanner,” Cookson told him. “I promise.”

“Thank you, Cookson.” Tanner nodded his thanks.

He looked around the very empty room. “I wish you were still here, M,” he said into the silence. “James is so lost without you. I’m ashamed I did not see it before, or just how much, but he’s so lost. I just hope we can get him back.”

**~*007*~**

Tanner stared at the image on the large wall monitor behind M.

Bond, sprawled out, still unconscious, on a cot in one of Six’s holding cells.

“He’s not moved since he was brought it,” Mallory said.

“Cookson mentioned the sedative would last a couple hours,” Tanner said, his eyes still on the monitor. “Thank you for not strapping him to the bed, sir.”

“I just hope it was the right decision,” Mallory replied. “After his violent outburst with Moneypenny, I should, by rights, have him strapped down.”

“I know, and I am grateful that you didn’t.” Tanner turned to face his superior. “He won’t be happy when he wakes though.”

A humourless chuckle escaped Mallory. “No, I don’t suppose he will be.”

“He was just sitting on the floor in her bedroom,” Bill told him quietly, his gaze returning to the screen. “I have never seen James so lost.

Mallory did not respond.

“I knew they were close,” Bill continued. “I just did not realize how close.”

“How close do you think they were?”

Tanner looked back, and met Mallory’s eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that James was in love with her.”

“In love with her?”

“Yes.”

Mallory looked thoughtful.

“Sir, what are we going to do about him?”

Before Mallory could answer, they saw movement in the cell.

**~*007*~**

Bond sat up with a start, and groaned.

He was disoriented, and felt like he’d been hit by a bus. The last thing he remembered was being in Olivia’s flat, in her bedroom.

“Oh Christ,” he swore, as the fog began to lift.

He’d held a gun on Tanner. 

His oldest friend, and he’d threatened to shoot him. He was suddenly flooded with shame, and his face flamed.

_“I’m sorry, James.”_

It was the last thing Bill had said to him before he’d collapsed; hit by a tranq dart. He rubbed his left bicep absently, wincing slightly at the tender feeling in the muscle.

He looked around, his eyes narrowing. He was in one of Six’s holding cells. One of the more opulent ones, he noticed, seeing the small desk and chair in one corner, and the curtained off toilet in the other. But still it was a cell… a cage, and he did not like being in a cage. Of any kind.

“Help me, my arse!” he swore under his breath, as he slowly got to his feet.

The sadness that had overwhelmed him earlier when he’d been in Olivia’s flat was gone, and in its place the rage had returned.

Pure, overwhelming rage.

Hotter and stronger than before.

He glanced around, and spotting the camera in the corner, he glared straight into the lens, knowing instinctively Mallory was watching.

**“LET. ME. THE. FUCK. OUT. OF. HERE. NOW!!”**

**~*007*~**

“We need to help him, M.”

Mallory glanced at his watch. “We will, Bill.”


	6. Chapter 6

Bond threw himself against the bars with an angry roar, his face contorted with rage.

“Let me out! Bloody bastards, let me out of here!!”

An enraged yell followed, before he stepped away from the bars, and stormed around the cell, still bellowing obscenities, as he began to demolish anything he could get his hands on.

He spun around when he heard the large outer door open. He dropped the leg of the table he’d just smashed, and charged at the bars again.

“You! You bastard! Let me out!”

Gareth Mallory stood just out of arms reach from the man in the cell with his hands in his trouser pockets, and a deep frown on his face.

“Fucking let me out of here! Right fucking now!” Bond yelled, his body slamming into the metal bars again. “You have no right to hold me here! Let me out! I’ll rip your fucking head off!”

Bond turned away, and grabbed what remained of the chair, and hefted it over his head, ready to smash it against the cell bars.

Mallory sighed, then stepped aside.

“007.”

Bond stopped dead in his tracks; the chair falling from his hands to clatter onto the floor at his feet.

“M?”

He shook his head, not believing what he was seeing.

There was a gentle nod, and a tremulous smile. “Yes, James.”

Oh god! James thought as he flung himself against the bars of the cell, his arms reaching through the rungs toward her. 

“M! M!”

His fingers scrabbled the empty air, trying desperately to reach her.

Olivia hurriedly crossed the room, reaching out to grasp his hand once she was close enough.

“Oh god… M!” James gasped, his fingers curling around hers, and pulled her closer. “Is it really you?” He cupped the side of her face with his other hand. “Olivia?”

“Yes, my love… it’s me,” she replied in a quiet voice, covering his hand, and holding it against her cheek, brushing her lips against his palm.

She was alive.

A loud, broken sob echoed throughout the room.

James crumbled, falling into a heap on the floor. He reached through the bars again, his arms curling around her legs, trying to pull her nearer.

He felt her hand in his hair; fingers combing through the soft strands.

James pressed his face against the bars, trying in vain to get closer to her, needing to be closer to her. He whispered her name… a plea.

“M,” Olivia called out softly. “Open the cell, please. Let me inside.”

“I can’t do that, Olivia, you know that,” Mallory responded in a low voice.

Olivia turned her head to look at him. “Please.”

“It’s against protocol.”

“Protocol be damned!” Olivia retorted sharply. “You brought me here to help him, let me do that.”

“He’s dangerous.”

“James would never hurt me.”

Mallory frowned, then glanced to his right when Tanner appeared at his side, surprise, disbelief, and pleasure still dancing in his eyes.

“Sir, if I may, she’s right. James would never hurt her,” Tanner told him softly. “Ever.”

Mallory met Tanner’s eyes. After a few moments, he nodded. “Very well,” he said, then looked over to the guard nearest the cell door. “Let her in.”

“Thank you,” she said, then tugged gently on James’ hair. “Let go, James.”

James shook his head, and held on tighter; certain if he let her go that she’d disappear, and he’d be lost again. “Can’t…” he mumbled. “Won’t… can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere, James, I promise,” she told him. “Let go.”

Slowly, he loosened his grip.

“Don’t move,” Olivia said quietly. “Stay right where you are, all right? Don’t give him any reason to change his mind.”

James nodded, and dropped his arms, pulling them back inside the cell. He watched as Olivia met the guard at the door to the cell, and held his breath as the guard swiped his pass card over the reader, then keyed in the security code.

The click of the lock releasing was loud in the quiet room, and the guard pulled the door open.

“Thank you,” Olivia said to the guard, as she entered James’ cell. She paused to watch the guard close the door behind her, and key in the code to lock it once more.

When the lock clicked into place, James scrambled to his feet, and shot across the small space to take her in his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in her hair, and inhaled her familiar scent.

“Oh god… Olivia…” James gasped, then sank to his knees in front of her, and pressed his face against her chest, as he wound his arms around her once again.

Olivia could feel him trembling, and when she felt the dampness against her breasts, she realized he was crying. She stroked her fingers through his hair, caressed his neck and shoulders, until simply standing on the hard floor began to make her back ache. Olivia glanced around the cell, spotting the cot - the only piece of furniture he hadn’t destroyed - then clasped his face in her hands, and drew his head back. Her heart broke when she saw the tears on his cheeks.

“Oh, James…” She wiped the wetness away with her thumbs. “Come on, get up,” she said, urging him to get to his feet. “Let’s go sit on the bed.”

He stood, but refused to let go of her, and held her close. 

They slowly moved over to the cot in the corner; Olivia sank down onto the end of the thin mattress, and was surprised when James dropped down onto his knees before her once again, and shuffled so that he was kneeling between her legs, and laid his head against her breasts.

Olivia wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and rested her cheek against the top of his head.

“Why?” he whispered the question. “Why did you let me believe you were dead?”

“I wasn’t given a choice,” she whispered back. “I wanted to tell you. I knew it would be hard on you.”

“It killed me,” he said simply. “I died inside.”

“I know…”

James suddenly pulled back. “How could you do that to me, Olivia?” he asked angrily, pushing away from her, and scrambling to his feet. He backed away from her. “How could you?!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw the guard advance as James shouted, and held her hand up to stop him.

“Do you know the agony I’ve been in?” James yelled, his anguish apparent.

“Yes, I do,” Olivia responded, her anguish matching his. “I’ve been in that same agony. My god, James, I love you! Do you really think I would do that to you? After everything we’ve endured to be together… do you really think that?”

He glared at her, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. Why was he so angry with her? He could see the hurt in her eyes; see the same loneliness and despair he’d been suffering all these months.

Having her alive, with him, was all he’d wanted, all he’d dreamt about for the last eight months, and now here she was. Living, and breathing, and so wonderfully real, looking up at him with the blue eyes he loved so much, and he was yelling at her.

Did he really think she would do that to him? Hurt him that way?

His face softened as he stared at her. “No,” he whispered. “No, I don’t.”

Honestly, not for anything did he truly believe that Olivia would do that to him… to them. They needed, loved each other too much.

He spun on his heels, and rushed the bars. “But you would!” he spat at Mallory. “You lied to me. All these months you let me believe she was dead! And you,” he turned to glare at Tanner. “How could you? My oldest friend! Offering me sympathy while all along you knew - ”

“No, James…” Tanner shook his head, a horrified expression on his face. “I - ”

“Tanner did not know, Bond.” Mallory spoke over Bill’s protest. “It was the PM’s decision to keep you in the dark. A decision I fully supported.”

Olivia got to her feet.

“You bastard!” James growled, throwing himself against the cell bars, futilely trying to grab the other man. “When I get out of here, I swear I’m going to kill you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw the guard near the door release the snap on his thigh holster, and hurried over to James. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “James, enough! Stop it.”

He stilled.

“This isn’t helping, James. What’s done is done,” she told him, sliding her hand down to rub his back. “We can’t go back. Threatening M is not helping matters.”

James gripped the bars of the cell so tight, his knuckles turned white.

“Let it go, James,” Olivia said in a voice just above a whisper. “I’m here now. We’re together. Focus on that.”

James released the bars, and pulled his arms back inside the cell, then turned to her. He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, the fight draining out of him in an instant. Olivia was right. She was here, and they were together.

Nothing else mattered.

He nodded his understanding, then whispered her name before ducking his head.

Olivia moaned when his mouth covered hers, and she wrapped her arms around his torso.

Both whimpered.

It had been more than eight months since they’d shared a kiss.

James slowly walked her backwards, then lowered her down onto the cot, his lips never leaving hers, and covered her body with his, kissing her passionately.

**~*007*~**

Standing outside the cell, Mallory and Tanner exchanged surprised glances.

Tanner had figured out that James was in love with M – Olivia, his mind corrected him – but he had not realized she felt the same way about James. He smiled. The little moments he’d witnessed between the two of them over the years now suddenly making sense.

Mallory touched Tanner’s sleeve. “Let’s…” he gestured away from the cell.

Tanner nodded.

Mallory got the other agents’ attention, and motioned for them to leave as well.

The CCTV cameras were still monitoring the cell, so James and Olivia would not be completely alone, but at least they would have a semblance of privacy without live bodies in the room. Though, from the look of it, neither one seemed to care or even remember that anyone else was there.

They’d just reached the door, when Tanner’s mobile rang.

**~*007*~**

Olivia.

He was kissing Olivia.

The wonderful, sweet taste of her mouth overwhelmed his taste buds, and he moaned his pleasure, deepening the kiss even further, and pressed his body more firmly against hers.

A soft mewl of delight escaped Olivia, and she wrapped her arms tighter around James, revelling in the feeling of his body on top of hers, and the delicious sensation of his tongue stroking, and curling around hers.

The kiss continued hungrily for long moments, their lips parting only long enough for each to pull in a quick breath, and to murmur each other’s name, before their mouths were fused together again.

Awareness of where they were returned slowly to Olivia, and when James showed no sign of easing the kiss, she grasped his face in her hands, and began to stroke the corners of his mouth with her thumbs. Little by little, the kiss gentled, and eventually tapered off.

James lifted his head, and their eyes locked.

“I have missed you so much,” James muttered before burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Olivia held him close, and rubbed her cheek against the top of his head, her fingers playing lightly with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ve missed you, too.”

A few moments later, she felt his body shaking against hers, and realized that he was sobbing again. She let him, knowing he needed the release of emotions. She held him closer, and closed her eyes against the sudden well of tears that sprang up in her own eyes.

The last eight months had been difficult on her as well. True, nowhere near as difficult as it had been on James; she had at least known that he was alive. The difficulty, however, lay in the fact that she’d been ordered not to contact him.

After her recovery from the gunshot, and the subsequent surgery to remove the bullet, she’d been relocated to a quiet country retreat, and had been told to enjoy her well-deserved retirement; to take up a hobby; learn to relax and take it easy.

She’d almost laughed at them when they’d suggested she take up a hobby. 

After more than forty years working for MI6, they had actually thought it would be something she could give up just like that.

If she’d had James with her, then perhaps it would have been different.

But she hadn’t. She’d been alone.

And she’d missed it. She’d missed being at Six, and being part of that world. She’d hated not knowing everything about everything at any given moment. 

But more than anything, she’d missed James.

Being apart from him had been a very real, physical ache.

It had been hell. Pure hell being separated from him.

She’d longed to find him, to go to him, and tell him she was alive so that they could swan off together as they’d planned to do before everything went tits up with Silva and Skyfall.

Olivia felt his lips move against the skin of her throat, and was drawn out of her memories. She pressed a kiss to his temple when she heard him murmur her name. “I’m here, James…” she whispered, and received a soft nip, followed by a kiss to her neck in response.

They were no longer apart, and the relief was palpable. Admittedly, this was not the way she’d imagined their reunion, when she’d let herself imagine it that is, but it was what it was, and they were together, which was all that mattered in the end.

“Ma’am…”

Olivia turned her head to see Tanner standing close to the cell. “The PM is here, and he would like to see you,” he told her.

She felt James’ arms tighten around her.

“I’ll be right there, Tanner,” she replied, then turned her attention back to the man in her arms. “James. James, love, you need to let me go.”

James shook his head.

After all those months of missing her, of wanting her back with him, of mourning the loss of the other half of his soul, he was reluctant to let her go. He was still too afraid that he was dreaming, that when he opened his eyes, she would be gone, and the heartbreak would begin anew.

“It’s all right, James,” she told him, then grasped his face in her hands, and lifted his head so she could look into his eyes. “I won’t be long, then I will be back. I promise.” She feathered the fingers of her right hand through the hair at his temple. She could see the doubt in his eyes, the fear that somehow she still wasn’t real. “I will never willingly leave you, James.”

“I know,” James replied in a raspy voice. In his heart he knew that; knew that she would never leave him if given a choice, but memories of the past eight months kept filling his mind.

Living without her had been hell.

He’d been prepared to lose to her to old age (well, not really, but he was as prepared as anyone could be to lose someone they love to the ravages of time); it was something they had talked about when they’d begun their intimate relationship, but their separation had not been one either had been prepared for.

“James.” Olivia gently tugged on his ear.

He blinked, and refocused on her. He nodded, then slowly rolled off her, his back against the wall of the cell.

Olivia rolled toward him, and brushed a kiss to his lips. “I won’t be too long.”

“This is the PM you’re going to see, of course you will be,” James remarked dryly, as she stood up from the cot, then smirked when she shook her head at him, a fond smile touching her lips.

“Smartarse.” If he was making snarky comments, he was going to be okay, she realized.

James nodded. “But you love me anyway.”

Olivia’s eyes filled with affection. “Yes, I do.”

He sat up, and watched her walk to the door of the cell. “Don’t worry,” he told the guard, as he saw the other man eye him warily. “I won’t cause any more trouble.”

The agent acknowledged him with a nod, then opened the cell.

Olivia paused in the now open door, and looked back at him. “James, why don’t you…” she gestured to the mess he’d made in the cell.

He nodded.

She smiled, then walked out of the cell, and the cell block.

James looked around at the smashed table and chair. Cleaning it up would at least pass the time until she returned.

And lord willing it would be to get him out of this bloody cell.


	7. Chapter 7

Tanner was waiting for her when she stepped out of the cell block, and she smiled at her former Chief of Staff.

“You didn’t have to wait, Bill,” she told him.

“Well, actually - ”

“It’s all right, Bill.” She cut him off. “I know I am no longer in charge, and thus I am no longer allowed to wander around unchaperoned.”

“Something like that, yes, Ma’am,” Tanner replied.

Olivia merely smiled. “Well then, let’s not keep the Prime Minister waiting. The sooner I deal with him, the sooner James and I can leave.”

Tanner saw the determination in her eyes, the set of her jaw, along with the squaring of her shoulders, as she strode away from him, and bit back a smile.

“Come along, Tanner!” she called back to him.

He hurried after her.

The Prime Minister, and M had no idea what they were in for.

**~*007*~**

Mallory sat behind his desk, and watched as the other man in the room paced back and forth.

“So the question now, is what do we do with him?”

“By him, I assume you are talking about James?”

Both men turned to see Olivia standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest, her face set in a hard mask.

“Yes, I was speaking about 007,” the PM replied. “We need to decide what is to be done about him.”

“What do you mean what is to be done about him?” Olivia asked. “You let him go, of course.”

“Now, M - dammit!” the PM swore, then corrected himself. “Olivia. Bond is a dangerous individual. You’ve seen what he’s capable of.”

“Yes, I have. Bond is what we’ve made him, what we’ve trained him to be,” she replied. “And he has done exactly what we’ve trained him to do. Protect our country’s interests.”

“He acted without authorization,” the Prime Minister pointed out.

“Which you were all too happy to let him continue doing,” Olivia countered. “And it would not be the first time. Bond’s always been one to fly by the seat of his pants, but it’s always worked for him. Why the sudden change of heart? Because he killed Beckhert?”

The Prime Minister shook his head. “No. Because of **how** he killed him,” he told her, then turned to Mallory. “Show her.”

“Show me what?”

“The retrieval team discovered a closed circuit video system in the warehouse where they found Beckhert,” Mallory replied. “The entire incident was caught on camera.”

He pushed a button on his laptop, and the screen behind him came alive.

Olivia watched as Bond and Beckhert exchanged blow after blow, beating each other senseless, before tackling each other to the floor. She winced every time Beckhert’s fist connected with James’ face or body, the sound of skin hitting skin, echoing throughout the office; pleased when James landed his own blows.

Her breath caught in her throat when Beckhert managed to gain the advantage, scrambling off Bond, and grabbing his gun.

_“On your feet, Bond.”_ She heard the German tell him, and watched James slowly get to his feet; glaring hatefully at the older man.

_“The great James Bond. Not so great now, are you?”_ The German sneered at him. _“Are you ready to go to hell with that old bitch you used to work for? Oh yes, I heard about that. Killed by a former agent no less, how delicious.”_

On the monitor, James’ hands clenched into tight fists.

_“I believe I drank a toast to her demise when I heard the news.”_

Olivia knew the exact moment James snapped.

The next few minutes were a blur as Bond whaled on Beckhert. The earlier sounds of the fight were nothing compared to the gruesome noises spilling from the speakers as James fists collided with the other man’s face again, and again.

Olivia winced when she heard bones breaking, and saw Beckhert’s body go limp beneath James. She watched James get to his feet, and stand over the body, panting harshly .

_“And I’ll be drinking a toast your imminent arrival in Hell.”_ They heard James say as he walked away.

Mallory paused the video on James’ face.

Olivia stared at the screen.

“He killed the man with his bare hands,” the PM told Olivia. “Now, you tell me what we should do with him.”

“Let him go,” she replied. 

“You cannot be serious!?”

Olivia slowly turned to meet the PM’s gaze. “Oh but I am.”

“He killed a man with his bare hands,” the Prime Minister repeated. “Bond hit him repeatedly, and so hard, that he broke both of Beckhert’s cheeks, as well as his nose. The force of his blows drove bone fragments into the man’s brain. And you want us to release him?”

“Yes.”

“He’s too dangerous.”

She smiled. “He’s a Double-0. He would not be very good at his job if he wasn’t dangerous.”

“And you want us to just release him?” the PM asked again. “Did you not hear me? He killed a man. You watched him with your own eyes. He’s killed seven men as a matter of fact.”

“I believe he only killed three men, not seven. And each of those men were ones Six has been after for years. Men that Six, even when I ran things, have been unable to take down until now. Until 007.”

“He was out of control. Acting without the knowledge of his superior, or my office, on these unsanctioned missions of his.”

“Bullshit!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. Six bloody well knew what Bond was up to, as did your office,” Olivia told him. “Let’s not pretend otherwise, Prime Minister. To do so is insulting. It’s only because he did not simply shoot Beckhert in the head as he did the other three, that you want to lock him away.”

“That’s not the only reason.”

“Then why?”

“He’s out of control,” the PM stated again. “Look what he did to Miss Moneypenny, for Christ’s sake.”

“An action he deeply regrets,” Tanner spoke up from behind Olivia.

The Prime Minister shook his head. “It makes no difference that he regrets his actions, the point is, he threatened and harmed a co-worker. The man has been acting recklessly for the last eight months. Ever since…”

“Ever since you decided to keep him in the dark about my being alive,” she finished in a quiet voice when the Prime Minister’s trailed off. “Did you even take into consideration the effect that news would have on him? Especially after he’d managed to revive me in the chapel?”

“It was for your protection we kept the news of your survival limited to just myself and M. We did not know, and still don’t know for that matter, if Silva was truly working alone. Every indication was that he wasn’t.”

“I am aware of the reasons for keeping my status quiet, but I told you then that James could be trusted. I told you he would not take the news of my death well, however you chose to ignore me, and not tell him,” Olivia told him.

“You’re suggesting he turned rogue - ”

“James has not gone rogue!” Olivia interrupted him.

The PM glared at her. “You’re suggesting he…” he paused for a moment, “ _lashed out_ because he was grieving?”

“Yes.”

“That still does not excuse his actions.”

“No, but it explains them,” she replied. “Again, I told you what would happen if you told 007 I’d died. I told you he would not take it well; that he would act out unpredictably - ”

“And why was that? Hmm? Because you were sleeping with him perhaps?!” the PM cut her off. 

Olivia’s eyes grew wide, as she realized, “You kept him in the dark to punish us; to punish me, because you suspected we were having an affair?!”

“Well weren’t you?”

“Yes. We were,” she answered, with a slight shrug of her shoulders, then her eyes grew hard. “So you let him believe I was dead on the suspicion that he and I were sleeping together? After all the losses he has already endured over the years, you would do that to him?”

“You were having an affair with one of your agents. There are rules against fraternization - ”

Olivia angrily cut him off. “There are no such rules! It is highly discouraged, yes! But there are no rules against fraternization! Christ, I met my husband here.”

“But he was not your superior,” the PM pointed out. “You were M, and Bond was your agent. Your actions with 007 were highly unprofessional.”

“Unlike the various members of your cabinet who are currently having affairs with their secretaries?” Olivia asked, sarcasm lacing her tone.

“We’re talking about you and Bond, not the members of my cabinet,” the PM said. “There is a reason relationships are discouraged amongst the ranks here; to avoid any show of favouritism. How do we know he wasn’t given all the choice assignments because he was bedding you, hmm? All the safe ones?”

Olivia’s right hand curled into a fist at her side, and she mentally counted to ten before answering. “James and I never let our relationship interfere with our work. We both did our job. Are you aware of how many times I came close to losing him because I did _not_ keep him off the dangerous assignments? My god, I gave the order that saw him shot last year. So you dare to accuse me of showing favouritism? No, Prime Minister. There was no favouritism.”

“We made the wrong call,” Mallory said in a quiet voice.

“You agreed with my decision at the time,” the PM replied.

“I did at the time, yes.” Mallory nodded. “But I was not in possession of all the facts.” He met Olivia’s gaze. “I was not aware that you and Bond were involved.”

“Come now, surely you heard the rumours?” 

“I did,” Mallory answered, glancing back at the Prime Minister. “But I paid them no heed.” His attention returned to Olivia. “I knew you were close. I could see that. I believe I called you on it once.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Olivia’s mouth, and she nodded. She remembered that day in her temporary office.

“I knew you were sentimental about him, but I honestly thought your feelings for him were maternal in nature. I did not realize it was romantic.” Mallory paused. “If I had known the extent of your relationship, and knowing Bond’s history, which I did familiarize myself with, I would not have agreed to keep him in the dark,” he told her. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I am deeply sorry.”

“Thank you.” She accepted his explanation and apology with a nod, then turned to the Prime Minister, her expression dark. “So to answer your earlier question, Prime Minister about what is to be done with Bond, I repeat my answer. You let him go.”

“But…”

“No buts, Prime Minister. Let him go,” Olivia said, her voice as hard as the look on her face. “When I leave here in the morning, I am walking out of this building with him. One way or another.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s a promise,” she replied. “You have until morning to decide to agree.” She turned to Mallory. “It’s late.”

“We’ve arranged quarters for you,” Mallory told her.

Olivia shook her head. “They won’t be necessary.”

“Olivia - ”

She held up her hand to stop him. “Unless you’re willing to let James share them with me.”

“Absolutely out of the question!” The Prime Minister spoke up.

Olivia frowned, but ignored the other man. “No thank you. I promised James I would return. So I will stay with him.”

“Very well,” he relented, then nodded to Tanner. “Bill, would you escort her back to 007.”

“With pleasure, sir,” Tanner said with a smile.

“Thank you, M.” Olivia smiled at her successor.

“Ma’am.” Mallory inclined his head.

Olivia turned, and followed her former Chief of Staff to the door, then turned back to look at the two men. “Remember, Prime Minister. One way or another, James and I are leaving in the morning.”

She walked out of the room.

**~*007*~**

“Ma’am.”

Olivia stopped just outside the cell block, and looked at Tanner.

“Wait here one moment, please,” Tanner said, then hurried away. A few moments later he rejoined her, carrying a pillow and blanket in his arms. She looked at him curiously. “I thought you might need this, seeing as 007 destroyed the ones we gave him,” he told her with a wry grin.

Olivia chuckled, and took them from him. “Thank you, Tanner.”

“You’re welcome, Ma’am,” he replied, then keyed in his security code to gain entry to the cells.

When they walked in, the two agents watching over Bond stood, acknowledging Tanner, and their former superior with brief nods.

Bond was, Olivia noticed, curled up on the cot, facing the wall.

“Report,” Tanner ordered in a quiet voice.

“007 straightened up his cell.” The shorter of the two agents indicated the two large bins on the outside of the cell, which were full with what remained of the cell’s furniture. “And then he curled up on the cot. He’s not moved since.”

“Very good,” Tanner said, then turned to the other agent, the one who’d let Olivia into James’ cell earlier. “Open the cell door, let her back in.”

“Yes, sir.” The agent walked over to cell, and unlocked the door, then stepped aside.

Olivia looked up at Tanner. “Thank you, Bill.”

Tanner smiled. “You’re welcome, Ma’am. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Olivia reached out to pat his arm, and nodded, a grateful smile on her lips, then made her way into James’ cell.

The guard locked the door behind her.

“If you need anything, just call out,” Tanner told her, and gestured to the cameras. “Someone will be watching, and Harding and Tomlinson will be just outside.”

She nodded again.

“Sir, we were told to guard 007,” Harding spoke up.

“And you will be, but from out there,” he pointed to the outer door, then held up his hand to stop further protest. “You have your orders, Harding.”

The agent straightened up, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Olivia met Tanner’s eyes, and chuckled softly at the mildly annoyed look on his face as the two guards left the room.

“Good night, Ma’am.” Tanner walked over to the door. He paused, reached out, and moments later, the lights in the room dimmed. He glanced back at her and smiled.

“Thank you, Tanner,” Olivia said. “Good night.”

Once Tanner had left, closing the door behind him, leaving her alone with James, Olivia made her way over to the cot, and gazed down at his still form.

He was asleep, but it was not a deep one, she quickly realized, judging by the tension she could see in his shoulders. The cot was not a large one, but she figured there would be enough room for then both; especially considering they would most likely end up curled around each other.

They always had.

She carefully eased the pillow beneath his head, pausing to feather her fingers affectionately, yet lightly through his hair, before she toed off her shoes, then sat on the edge of the cot with her left leg hitched up on the mattress, facing the foot of the small bed.

She gently shook out the blanket, then stretched out behind him. She shifted close, and fitted her body to his, her chest pressed against his back, her legs tucked up against his, and drew the blanket over them. She draped her right arm around him, curling her left beneath her head, then placed a kiss to the back of his neck.

“You came back.”

His voice was pitched low, raspy from sleep.

“I told you I would,” Olivia replied, stroking her hand over his chest and stomach.

James shifted away from her, then turned to face her. He slipped his leg between hers, and drew her close once more.

They shared a sweet kiss.

“You look tired.” James reached up between them to brush his fingers over her cheek.

“I am.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said, then gave her an inquisitive look. “I am going to assume because you’re here with me now, that it’s not been decided if I’m being released or not.”

Olivia nodded. “Apparently, you’re a dangerous individual. A fact he tried to reinforce by showing me video of you killing Beckhert with your bare hands.”

James’ eyes widened. “There was video?”

“Yes. I think the PM hoped it would shock me.”

“Did it?”

“No.” She smiled tenderly at him. “James, I know who you are. I know what you are. Yes, you are dangerous. You’re a Double-0 for Christ’s sake. You were trained to be dangerous; trained to kill. It’s your job, and you are good at it. But you don’t kill just for the sake of killing.”

“I did with him. With him, and with Carvalho,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “I killed them simply because I knew the grief they’d caused you, and because I could.”

Olivia nodded. “I know,” she said softly. “You were in so much pain, my love. You were grieving.”

“It’s no excuse.”

“No, but it’s a reason.”

James nodded slowly. “All I could think was how I couldn’t keep you safe; couldn’t protect you.” His voice was hushed, just above a whisper. “I woke up from a nightmare, and discovered I’d knocked the bulldog off my night table. I got so angry. Angry at you for not being here, but mostly at myself for not being able to protect you. So I vowed to myself then, and there, that I would do anything I could to keep our other mistress safe; to keep England safe.”

Olivia curled her hand around his bicep, the same one Beckhert had grazed with the bullet, and fingered the bandage beneath the cotton of his shirt.

“I hoped if I did that, the pain of losing you, the guilt, would ease, and that the nightmares would stop, but it just got worse. All of it.”

“I know,” she whispered, and slid her hand up to cup his cheek. “It did for me, too.”

“Why’d they do it, Olivia?” James asked, the pain of their forced separation still haunting his eyes.

“To punish me for having the temerity to sleep with one of my agents,” she told him.

James’ eyes narrowed. “They knew?”

Olivia shook her head. “They suspected.”

“They sus… you mean they put us through hell because they **suspected** we were having an affair? Suspected?! They had no real evidence?”

“Yes.”

“Bastards!” James swore, and Olivia felt his body tense with his growing anger.

“James, don’t,” she said, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

“Aren’t you upset about this?”

“Of course I am!” Olivia leaned her forehead against his. “They stole eight months from us, James. Eight months we will never get back. Eight months we could have been together.” She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “There are no words to describe just how furious I am at them for doing that to us. Do I want to make them pay? Make them suffer the same agony they put us through? Of course I do! But it won’t give us those eight months back. And I don’t want to waste anymore time. We’re together now. Let’s concentrate on that.” She leaned close again, and brushed her mouth over his, and murmured, “Let’s concentrate on us.”

James slid his arm around her waist, and drew her closer. She was right. They’d lost too much time already; to waste anymore would be foolish. There was only one thing bothering him.

“What if they don’t let me out?” he voiced the question softly.

“They will.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Because I told the Prime Minister that come morning, I am walking out of Six with you. One way or another, we are leaving here together, James.”

The look in her eyes told James all he needed to know. Olivia still had friends in the government, he knew. People who owed her favours. Favours, James realized that she would not hesitate to call in to get him out of this situation.

He nodded his understanding, but could not resist teasing her. He grinned. “You threatened him.”

“I did no such thing!”

She looked so appalled at the suggestion, that James could not help chuckling. “Of course you didn’t,” he teased, then chuckled again when she slapped his chest. He covered her hand with his, and held it against him, enjoying the warmth of her touch. 

“Cheeky sod.” Olivia shook her head at him, an affectionate smile gracing her lips. She’d missed this. Missed the playful teasing. She felt a rush of emotion; something she hadn’t felt in months.

Happiness.

She was happy.

She was in one of Six’s holding cells, and she was happy.

Olivia gazed at James.

And he was the source of her happiness.

As if he knew the direction of her thoughts, James’ gaze softened, and he lifted her hand from his chest, pressing a kiss to her palm, then the inside of her wrist, but did not utter a word. There was no need. His eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, were saying it all.

He was happy as well.

The pain of their separation was fading with every passing moment. For both of them.

“What should we do when we leave here tomorrow?” she inquired.

A slow, naughty smile grew on his face. He slid his arms around her, and drew her closer, shifting the leg between hers to press it firmly against her sex.

Olivia moaned softly, and unconsciously rocked against him. “After that,” she murmured breathlessly.

He chuckled. “I’d like to do what we talked about before.”

“Leave everything behind, and take off for parts unknown?”

“Yeah.” James nodded, his left hand gliding down her back to curl around the cheek of her arse.

“Mmm… I suppose it’s not too late to make a run for it.”

“I’m game if you are.” He grinned.

“Yes,” she managed to say just before his mouth covered hers. A low whimper of pleasure escaped her as his tongue slipped past her lips, and he kissed her deeply. She eased her mouth from his when she felt his cock begin to swell against her lower belly. “James…” She shook her head.

“I know,” he said, in a slightly hoarse voice. “I know.” A crooked smile touched his lips. “I’ve missed kissing you,” he confessed, then squeezed her arse. “And touching you.”

Olivia smiled. “I’ve missed it, too.”

“I want to make love with you, Olivia. So very much.”

“I want that as well, and I promise you, when we leave here tomorrow, you can keep me in bed for a week.”

James’ grin grew, a lascivious gleam lighting his eyes, as he waggled his eyebrows at her, and a peel of laughter bubbled out of her. 

**~*007*~**

“Wouldn’t we all be so lucky to know such love?”

Tanner turned from the couple curled up in each other’s arms on the screen at the softly spoken words. His stomach gave an unexpected flip when his eyes met Mallory’s. He swallowed, and nodded. “Yes, sir, we would.”

“Did you really not know about them?” Mallory asked, his tone curious. “You worked for her for over fifteen years, and you’ve been friends with Bond for longer than that.”

“I really didn’t know,” Bill answered. He paused for a moment, then smiled. “After all, sir, if any two people could keep secrets, it would be those two.”

Mallory chuckled. “Very true. Do you think they kept any secrets from each other?”

Tanner shook his head. “No. I think M is the only one James truly trusts, and vice versa. I don’t think she even trusted her husband as much as she trusts James.”

Mallory looked back to the monitor.

Bond and Olivia were now spooned together beneath the thin blanket; her back to his chest, and it was apparent both had fallen asleep. 

“Sir?”

“Mmm?”

“We are going to let James go aren’t we?”

Mallory stared at the couple for several more minutes before slowly turning to meet Tanner’s hopeful gaze.


	8. Chapter 8

Olivia’s eyes fluttered open.

Unsure of what had woken her, it took several moments for her to remember where she was, and why.

“James…” she whispered with a smile, and rubbed her cheek against the top of his head.

They’d shifted in the night, and were no longer spooned together. She was now on her back on the small cot with James snuggled tightly against her side, his body half-draped over hers. His head was heavy against her breast, his left leg thrown over and between hers, and his left hand was closed around her right breast.

His fingers flexed, and his thumb brushed over her nipple, the sensitive tip tightening under the gentle stimulation.

Her smile grew as she realized what had woken her.

She pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, then closed her eyes, as she nestled into his embrace.

“Ma’am?”

Olivia opened her eyes again, then turned her head to find Tanner standing outside the cell.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said in a quiet voice.

“You didn’t,” Olivia replied.

“M would like to see you and James in his office,” Tanner told her.

She nodded. “Just let me wake sleeping beauty here.”

Tanner chuckled, and nodded, before stepping away to give them some privacy.

“James…” Olivia gently nudged his shoulder.

**~*007*~**

A small, sleepy smile tugged at the corner of James’ mouth at the gentle, rhythmic thumping beneath his ear.

Her heart.

Even in deep sleep, his heart recognized its mate, and a feeling of peace settled over him.

James exhaled a contented sigh, and nestled closer to the warm, soft body he was snuggled around; unconsciously squeezing the breast he cradled in his hand, his thumb brushing over her nipple.

“James.”

He felt her nudge his shoulder. “Mmm…?”

“Wake up.”

“Unh, unh,” he mumbled.

He was enjoying the all too real dream of being in Olivia’s arms, of hearing her heart beating in time with his, and wanted to hang onto the pleasant feeling a little while longer before reality came crashing down around him once again.

“Come on, James. Wake up.”

A hand curled around the back of his head, and tugged gently. He grudgingly raised his head, then slowly opened his eyes.

Her warm hand cupped his cheek.

“Good morning.” Olivia smiled up at him.

James stared down at her. She was real. She was truly real. He swallowed.

“I thought I was dreaming,” he confessed quietly, lifting his hand from her breast to cradle the side of her face.

“I’m a not a dream,” she told him, her husky voice music to his ears.

A tender smile slowly spread across James’s face, as he lowered his head. “Thank God,” he whispered, then covered her mouth with his.

**~*007*~**

Olivia moaned, as James’ tongue stroked hers, and he shifted his body so that he was lying fully on top of her, his hips settling between her thighs. She could feel his morning erection, and it sent a jolt of lust straight through her.

She wanted him. It’d been too long since they’d made love, and she wanted him.

But not here.

She grasped his face, and pulled his mouth from hers. “James…” she murmured. “We can’t…”

“Yes…” he countered, and caught her lips again, as he grabbed her hands, and pinned them to the pillow above her head, lacing their fingers together.

Olivia moaned again, as he deepened the kiss, and thrust his hips against her. The reasons they shouldn’t be doing this now vanished as her arousal grew, and she curled her right leg around the back of his knee.

A throat cleared noisily.

“007. Ma’am.”

James broke off the kiss with a groan, and lifted his head to see Tanner standing on the other side of the cell, an embarrassed smile on his face. He looked back down at the woman still pinned beneath him. “Oh.”

Olivia chuckled, and eased her hands from his, reaching up to pat his cheek affectionately. “Later,” she promised him again.

James nodded, then ducked his head to feather another kiss to her lips, then rolled off her, and got to his feet. After a quick stretch, he held his hand out to her, and helped her off the cot.

After a small stretch of her own, Olivia clasped James’ hand in hers, then turned to face Tanner. “We’re ready, Mr. Tanner.”

**~*007*~**

Exiting the lift, Olivia and James followed Tanner down the short hall to Mallory’s office. 

When they entered the reception area, James let go of Olivia’s hand, and walked over to Moneypenny’s desk.

“I’m sorry, Eve,” he told her quietly when she looked up at him. 

“It’s all right, James. You have nothing to apologize for,” Eve responded.

James shook his head. “No. It’s not all right, and I do need to apologize. I should not have attacked you like that. You were just acting out of concern for a friend.” He smiled sadly. “I’m rather ashamed of my actions, and I deeply regret hurting you.”

Eve smiled reassuringly, and nodded. “I forgive you, James. You didn’t hurt me.”

“No?” He gestured to the ugly bruise he could see peeking out from the scarf around her neck.

“It’s just a bruise,” she said. “It’s nothing serious.”

“I am glad to hear that.” James felt some relief that he hadn’t seriously hurt her.

“I will admit that I was a little frightened. I’ve never seen you that angry before,” Eve told him, and her gaze darted past him to Olivia. “But I understand the reason behind that anger.”

James’ shoulders slumped, and he mumbled another apology.

“It’s all right, James. I know you would not have really hurt me; even as angry as you were.”

“I’m glad you’re sure,” he replied.

“See, I told you,” Olivia said, joining him at Eve’s desk, and slipped her arm through, and around his, stroking his forearm with her other hand. “You are not a cold-blooded killer, James. It’s just not in you to hurt someone you care about.”

James looked down at her, then reached up to cup her cheek with his free hand. Before he could say anything, the door to Mallory’s office opened. He looked up to see Mallory standing in the doorway, and behind him, the Prime Minister.

Olivia slid her hand into his, and laced their fingers together. “Together, James,” she told him with a gentle squeeze of his fingers, and when he looked down at her, she gave him a reassuring smile. “Together.”

James nodded. “Together.”

**~*007*~**

“Have you made your decision?”

James allowed his gaze to drift from the woman at his side to the Prime Minister. She’d wasted no time, and cut straight to the point, voicing her question the very second the office door closed.

The Prime Minister blinked, seemingly surprised by Olivia’s lack of preamble, then answered, “I have.”

“And?”

“I’ve discussed the matter with my advisors, as well as with M, and we’ve decided to release 007.”

Olivia squeezed James’ hand, and flashed him a smile.

“There are a couple conditions however.”

The smile fell from her face, and she slowly turned back to the PM.

James bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smirk from breaking free as the other man took an involuntary step back, and seemed to shrink under Olivia’s penetrating stare.

“What do you mean… conditions?” she asked slowly in a deadly, calm voice.

“You did not think he would be let off scot-free did you? Surely you are not that naïve, Olivia?” the PM said in a patronizing tone.

James felt Olivia’s body tense, and lightly stroked the top of her hand with his thumb in an effort to calm her.

“After everything you put him through, you’re damned right I did!” she retorted.

“Everything **I** put him through? Are you forgetting he killed three men? Beat several others?” The PM looked at Bond, but continued speaking to Olivia. “You are damned lucky we’re not locking him away for the rest of his life!”

“He’s a god-damned Double-0! He was doing his bloody job!”

“The hell he was!” The Prime Minister’s head snapped around, his face red. “He was acting of his own accord, playing super spy, and he got caught.”

“He was acting on my orders.”

“Excuse me?”

“007 was not acting on his own accord. He was acting on my orders,” Olivia said.

“Your orders?”

“Yes.”

“And when did you give him these orders?”

“They’ve been standing orders for several years now,” James spoke up.

The Prime Minister looked back and forth between the two of them. “You’re lying.”

“Prove it.”

The PM’s head snapped back to Olivia. “I beg your pardon?”

“Prove that we’re lying,” she told him.

“Remember who you’re speaking to, Ms Mansfield.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed. She let go of James’ hand, then moved to stand in front of the other man. “Oh, trust me, I know just to whom I am speaking.”

She did not raise her voice. She did not yell. 

James knew that tone; recognized her body language.

She was beyond angry, and it was only due to years of practice, that she kept it under control. But even so, her body vibrated with fury. 

Normally, he loved seeing her like this. He’d always found her incredibly sexy when she was angry; her beautiful blue eyes flashing even more brightly than usual; her chest heaving as she fought to keep tight rein on her emotions.

But at this very moment, his freedom, his future with Olivia was on the line.

“You are the man who took it upon himself to play God with other people’s lives.”

James watched the PM’s eyes widen, before he glanced at Tanner. He knew his friend was thinking the same thing he was: the Prime Minister had no idea who he was dealing with. He even spared a quick look at Mallory, and smiled internally when he saw the man wince at Olivia’s biting tone.

“Now just one - ”

Olivia cut him off. “You are the man who stole eight months from me and James. What gave you that right? And now you want to punish him further by attaching conditions to James’ release because he was just doing his duty? How dare you? After everything we have given of ourselves in serving Queen and country, what did we do that was so wrong? We simply fell in love, and what you have done is unforgivable.”

The PM stared at her.

Olivia stared back.

James watched the stand off with interest. He knew who would win.

After several tense minutes, the Prime Minister blinked and broke eye contact, and took a step back. “I always thought you were a sanctimonious bitch,” he spat out. “You were, and still aren’t in any position to judge my decisions.”

Olivia cocked an eyebrow. “I may not be, but I would say your voters are.”

“Another threat?” The Prime Minister glared at her, and James took a step forward when he saw the man’s hands ball into fists. The PM’s gaze darted to him, and he wisely uncurled his hands, and shoved them into his trouser pockets.

“Another promise,” Olivia replied. “I still have many friends in the government, Prime Minister.”

The two engaged in another staring contest.

Finally, after only a few moments, the PM dropped his eyes, and shook his head. “You know what, fine. Do what you want. I don’t care anymore.” He stepped around Olivia, then side-stepped James, and crossed the office. He opened the door, then paused, and looked back at Mallory. “They’re your problem now, M. You deal with them.”

He left without closing the door.

“Insufferable prick,” Olivia muttered, and James nodded his agreement. “Well, M? We’re your problem now. So what are you going to do with us?”

Mallory slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, and rocked back on his heels, as he regarded the couple before him.

Olivia’s question hung in the air.

“Before I get to that.” He turned to James. “Bond, I owe you an apology.”

James arched a curious eyebrow.

“For my part in deceiving you about Olivia’s death, I am so very sorry. I was not in possession of all the facts. I can assure you, if I had been, I would not have gone along with the Prime Minister’s decision to keep you in the dark,” Mallory said. “I deeply regret my part in this, and in causing you so much pain by allowing you to believe she was dead. And I do hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

James regarded the other man for several moments, then glanced at Olivia. Her expression told him that it was his decision to forgive Mallory or not, but that no matter what she would support him. He held his hand out to her, pleased when she slipped hers into his grasp, and entwined their fingers as she moved stand beside him.

He turned back to Mallory.

“Thank you, sir. I accept your apology,” he said. “And I’d like to apologize for my behaviour as well.”

Mallory waved it away. “No need, and quite understandable given the circumstances.”

James shook his head. “Regardless, I was out of line, and my behaviour was reprehensible.” His attention darted to Tanner. “I owe you an apology, too, Bill.”

Tanner shook his head. “It’s all good, James.”

“Thanks, Bill.” James smiled at his friend, then turned back to Mallory. “Thank you, sir.”

Mallory nodded. “Now that we’ve got that straightened out,” he began, and a serious look came over his face as he held Bond’s gaze. “Effectively immediately, your license to kill is revoked.”

And just like that, he was no longer a Double-0, James realized.

He felt Olivia squeeze his fingers, and glanced down at her. He returned the gentle pressure, and smiled with a slight nod of his head.

He was all right.

He’d always thought when the time came to give up his license, when he would no longer be a Double-0, that he would find it difficult; that he would feel a sense of loss. Being a Double-0 was all he knew, after all. 

But he didn’t, James thought. In fact, more than anything, he felt relieved and grateful that he’d survived being a Double-0 long enough to reach this point, and to be able to have that future with Olivia he’d dreamt about.

He turned back to Mallory.

“You are now, as of this moment, no longer a Double-0,” Mallory told him, then moved around his desk. “Congratulations on making it this far, Bond,” he said, and held his hand out.

“Thank you, sir,” James shook his hand.

Olivia released his hand, and slipped her arm around him, sliding it across his back to curl around his waist. “You made it, James,” she said softly.

He looked down to find her gazing up at him, her eyes bright with a light sheen of tears, and a small affectionate smile gracing her lips. He reached up, and brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek. “We made it,” he replied.

“Yes.” She nodded, then turned to Mallory. “Does this mean…?”

Mallory nodded. “You’re both free to go,” he told them. “I think we’ve put you both through quite enough, don’t you?”

“Yes,” James answered without hesitation.

“James!” Olivia exclaimed, though he could see she agreed with him.

“What?” he asked. “I’m only agreeing with him.”

Olivia shook her head fondly, as Mallory and Tanner chuckled. “Thank you, Gareth,” she said with honest sincerity. 

Mallory smiled. “You’re welcome,” he replied. “I sincerely wish nothing but the best for both of you.”

“Thank you, M.” James’ voice was low, but filled with respect, as he extended his hand to the other man.

Everyone’s eyes widened. It was the first time James had used Mallory’s title.

The two men shook hands as Olivia laid her head against James’ shoulder.

“What are your plans?” Tanner asked.

Olivia tilted her head back to meet James’ eyes as he turned to look at her.

They shared a smile.


	9. Chapter 9

“Mmm…”

James turned his head at the satisfied sigh, and smiled at the sight of Olivia lying on the blanket in the sand beside him.

Her hair was still damp from their earlier swim in the ocean, and there were a few droplets of water clinging to her tanned skin.

“Happy?” he asked.

Olivia rolled her head toward him, and smiled, as she hummed an affirmative. “Mmhmm…”

“Good.”

“This is lovely, James,” she said, her voice thick with satisfaction.

“I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” she remarked, then turned to look back at the water. “It’s such a beautiful view.”

“Yes it is,” he agreed with a smile, his eyes focussed on her.

Like him, she was completely naked, both of them taking advantage of the remoteness of the island.

He was, once again, grateful that Olivia had no hang ups about her body, as he ran his eyes over her nude form.

She was, in his opinion, simply gorgeous.

Her skin, every inch of it, was sun-kissed and glowing; her body more fit now than it had been when they’d first become a couple years ago.

All that extra exercise, he thought with a grin.

“You’re thinking naughty thoughts.” 

Olivia’s voice sounded in his ear, and he blinked to find that she’d rolled onto her side next to him.

“I am,” he agreed.

Olivia giggled. It was a sound he loved hearing from her, one he’d not heard from her before in all the years he’d known her, but one he was hearing more and more often, now that neither of them had any cares.

It was a delightful, naughty, husky sound that never failed to both arouse him, and make him immeasurably happy since she’d begun doing so.

It was a sound, he’d discovered, that meant she was content and happy as well.

Olivia reached out to run her fingers through his damp hair, fingering the short strands at his temple. “And you, James… are you happy?”

James nodded. He was. For the first time in a very long time, far longer than he cared to remember, he felt happy and at peace.

Olivia was alive, and they were together.

He turned onto his side to face her, then leaned his body into hers, pushing her onto her back, and then shifted his body on top of hers. He propped himself up on his elbows, and cradled her face in his hands.

“Yes, Olivia,” James said, a brilliant smile lighting his features. “I am very happy.”

Olivia reached up to cup his cheek. “No regrets about leaving London, and everything behind?”

James shook his head. “None whatsoever.”

“You’re sure?” She stroked her thumb against his cheekbone.

He nodded. “Yes,” he answered in a quiet voice, rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks in concert with her thumb which was still caressing his cheek. “The last eight months, believing you were dead, that I’d failed to keep you safe were quite simply hell.”

Olivia’s lips parted, but his thumb on her lips prevented her from speaking.

“I know. I know one day I will have to face life without you, and I am prepared for it,” he said, knowing what she was going to say. “Well, not really, but you know what I mean.” She nodded. “And I was definitely not prepared to have you taken away from me quite that soon, or in quite that way.”

“Is that why?” she asked softly.

There was no need for her to elaborate. James knew what she was asking,

“Yes,” he replied. “I’d failed to keep you safe, so I vowed to keep our England safe. To protect her in the way I couldn’t protect you.”

Olivia nodded slowly. She understood.

James ducked his head to brush his mouth against hers.

“So you see, as long as I have you with me, which is all I have ever wanted, then no… I have no regrets about leaving everything else behind,” he finished, gazing down at her with a loving smile. His eyes began to twinkle at her, and his smile grew just a little mischievous. “Besides, being a Double-0 lost its appeal without you there to boss me around.”

Olivia chuckled, then smiled, and slid her hand up to curl her fingers around the back of his head. “Good,” she murmured, lifting her head from the blanket as she drew him closer, and captured his mouth in a hungry kiss.

Soft moans sounded over the crash of the surf.

“James…” Olivia murmured, her hands gliding down his back to grasp his arse. “James, let’s go back to the boat.”

James broke off the kiss, and looked down at her.

“I want to make love with you,” she told him.

He nodded, then after giving her another loving kiss, he pushed himself off her, and got to his feet.

He gazed down at her.

Her skin was flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her arousal, and everything he felt for her swelled within him.

“I love you,” James whispered.

Olivia smiled up at him. “I love you, too.”

His heart skipped a beat, then began to pound furiously in his chest.

He’d almost lost this.

Almost lost her.

He blinked back an unexpected rush of tears as the realization.

“James…”

He focussed on her once again.

Olivia shook her head gently at him. “No more looking back, my love,” she said in a soft voice, then held her hand out.

James helped her to her feet, and pulled her into his embrace. He kissed her tenderly, then scooped her into his arms, and began to carry her to their boat.

Olivia was right.

No more looking back.

The past was just that.

It was time to focus on their future.

And presently, he was going to spend the immediate future making love to her until they were both too exhausted to move. He grinned at the thought.

“You’re thinking naughty thoughts again.”

James laughed at the amusement in her softly uttered words. “Yes and no.”

“Oh?”

James’ grin softened into a loving smile. “I’m thinking about a **very** enjoyable future making love with my wife.”


End file.
